The Player

Brielle

7:24 AM

Beethoven's symphony number five blared through the speakers as I leaped across the stage, landing gracefully. All spotlights were on me as I danced, the audience seeming to extend on forever. I spun, leapt, and glided across the platform before final finishing in my ending pose. My chin was held high as reassurance flooded through my body; I knew that I had done well. However, no one was clapping.

The audience's eyes were wide. The room was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop.

"Clap!" I yelled franticly from the stage. "Clap for me!"

I held my stomach in agony, tears running down my face. It wasn't until my hand touched my abdomen that I realized it was bare. Looking down at my body, I realized that I was completely naked.

Suddenly, the room went from dead silent to loud, filled with the laughs of the audience. Tomatoes were launched at me. They then began to throw dirt, then furniture, then cars, until a mid-sized home was being hurled at me.

"No!" I shouted, a lump in my throat. "This can't be happening to me!"

The room began to shake as the laughs grew in intensity.

"No!"

The room shook even more, until I could no longer stand up.

"No...no...no..."

of

up, now laying on my bed in my room. I quickly touched my stomach and felt my

a hint of attitude in his voice. "I had to shake you awake for five minutes while you kept screaming

know what you dream about, but you may need to see

in my sleepy haze. Rubbing my eyes, I looked at the clock, and then let out a long string of curse words. It read 7:25, and I had to be

I threw on my leotard, tights, and ballet flats on before securing my

dashed to my car, hightailing it to school in

the summer to prepare for my showcase in October, and it seemed that I was late to them nearly every day. For the last week, my instructor was getting more and more pissed, and I just hoped that today

short. Ever since, she's spent her time teaching dance, in hopes of giving dancers

I arrived at my school, Vista Valley, thirty minutes late.

I was not disappointed.

that a schedule might have just been a

every day for the last week. I let out a sigh of relief, knowing that

not a professional. So, I'm

Wait what?

scouts were going to be in the audience, and if I impressed them with my solo, I would have a chance to

I will do anything to get the solo back. Please let me prove to you that I

me every time. It's just unfortunate, because all of your talent is wasted on someone who doesn't

choked out. "I'll do

the studio. His 6'5" and football player build contrasted against the

He was just another rich kid who walked around the school like he owned the place. And he